


Scar Tissue

by Gibsos



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Body Image, Challenge: HP Endurance, Decisions, Gen, Post - Deathly Hallows, Post War, Post-Hogwarts, Pre Epilogue, Prompt 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-13
Updated: 2014-05-13
Packaged: 2018-01-24 14:35:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1608647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gibsos/pseuds/Gibsos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some people wear their marks from the battle more obviously than others.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scar Tissue

Prompt: Your character faces a tough decision, one that could affect the rest of their life.

LOC: Hard

Chosen Character: Lavender Brown

Words: 959

\-----------------------------

When Lavender finally left Hogwarts after a summer of rebuilding she walked out the double doors and looked back to see a building that was scarred, just like her. Because no matter how hard the professors tried the new bricks they conjured were always just one or two shades off and efforts to stitch the old ones together left large dilapidated grooves in the walls.

It was several directionless weeks later when someone she recognized as former Triwizard contestant Fleur Delacour walked up to her in the street. Lavender had been running some sort of errand for her mother in muggle London, when the crowd literally parted in front of her. Fleur looked like magic and the muggles were stunned, men and women gaping at her and meekly stepping aside. “Are you Lavender Brown?” she asked.

“Yes.”

Fleur’s smile was stunning, and she lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “You were attacked by zat ‘orrible Greyback, my ‘usband as well. We ‘ave decided to start a support group for ‘is victims. ‘Ere is ze contact info,” she said, handing over a small card with flowing cursive. Then she was on her way again, parting the crowd and effortlessly gliding on her way. Several of the people remaining stared at Lavender, wondering what it was that this strange, scarred, little girl could have done to warrant the attention of such a woman.

“Did you pick up the fabric?” Lavenders mom asked as she walked through the door.

She remembered walking through the same door weeks earlier, the first time since the battle, and being greeted by a sharp gasp and a clean shatter. A bit of an overreaction in Lavender’s opinion but that hadn’t stopped her mother from squealing “my baby!” and crying all over her.

“Yeah,” Lavender muttered, and set the roll of fabric down on the kitchen table.

“Now dear,” Lavender’s mom walked into the room, “I’ve asked around Diagon Alley and Madame Primpernelle of Madame Primpernelle’s Beautifying Potions thinks she might have a job for you, working the till, restocking the shelves, that kind of thing. She said she might even have a potion that could help your, er… blemish,” she finished awkwardly. “Just go in for the interview.”

Lavender remembered being fifteen and going into the office of a woman covered in tartan, and telling her that she wanted to go into the magical fashion industry when she graduated (just like her mother). She remembered the muffled look of disapproval but certainly not surprise. The following high pitched lilting laugh of a toad-like woman in a stupid cardigan, obviously sitting in on career advisement to discourage the next generation of their dreams. A job at Madame Primpernelle’s would be the perfect place to start, certainly moreso than the standing offer from the auror office to the fighters from the Battle of Hogwarts.

The interview came on the same day the support group was supposed to meet which was how Lavender found herself walking down Diagon Alley caught in a group of people with scars just like hers. The others turned off into Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, where Fleur had arranged for the meeting to take place. When Lavender continued walking down the narrow road she felt the eyes of Greyback’s other targets on her.

“Lav-Lav!” came the welcoming coo, when Lavender walked into the potion shop. Madame Primpernelle was someone she knew well. Lavender was fond of the dimly lit shop with dark blue curtains and tablecloths and entire constellations and galaxies twinkling high up in the ceiling. Little girls came in with their mothers, staying close to their elbows in the narrow store and trying to get a peek onto shelves resting just above their eye level.

Madame Primpernelle was a lanky woman who always stood perfectly straight because slouching was bad for you, and in her opinion made you wrinkle. She had no wrinkles herself of course, perks of running a beautification store.

The rest of her appearance was in a constant state of shift. She dabbled in different fashions of course, but most of it came from being the subject of her experimental potions. Just as it had been unsurprising to see Fred or George Weasley come into the common room with flowers growing out of their ears, Madame Primpernelle looked different every time you saw her. Different, but always stunning of course.

“Hello, Madame,” Lavender greeted. “Thank you for meeting me,” she said, as she had been taught to do in an interview.

“Not at all! Come to the back and sit with me!” The two of them settled at opposite sides of a small table with ornate legs peeking out from under the table cloth. The two settled down into an interview that was of equal parts potion making and gossip.

“When are you available?” was the last question. Last official question, anyway.

Lavender sat up straight and said, “I’ll make sure I’m available for this job whenever you need me,” because it sounded better than “I’m unemployed and have nothing else to do with my life.”

“Wonderful! So, how’s your aunt doing?” Madame Primpernelle leaned forward eagerly, hands folding together.

By the time Lavender got to the support group meeting it was almost over. A woman was standing at the front of the shabby looking room, talking about how she had lost her job because her boss couldn’t stand to look at her scars and her coworkers were nervous around her on the full moon. Lavender looked down at the small, glowing potion container in her hand, remembering Madame Primpernelle’s parting words.

“Remember, a light coating every night before bed until it’s completely gone. I’m afraid you won’t get much farther in this line of work with that scar, dear.”

**Author's Note:**

> Lavender lived through the Battle of Hogwarts and no one can convinced me otherwise.
> 
> Madame Primpernelle wasn’t made up by me, but there wasn’t a lot of information on her so everything here I made up. Except for the names of her & her shop. Info from the hp wiki: http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Primpernelle


End file.
